Sparkly
by Diskret
Summary: I couldn’t even think of a word foul enough to describe you. You, you were the demon of my existence, the monster in my life. You, whose bedroom I was now locked up in, and had been for the last month.


My eyes welled up with tears of despair. It was all over now, my freedom, my independence, my life. And it was all because of this damned war. I snarled just at the though of it.

This wasn't my war, but then on the other hand, it wasn't theirs either. Not to begin with at least. They were supposed to be the ones who wanted the best for our community, the right and noble thing. But somewhere along the way it had become their war, they got greedy and self centered. Suddenly they didn't want the right thing anymore, they didn't want what was best for the people, they wanted what was best for themselves.

Like I said, I never wanted this. I got dragged into a huge war, not because I wanted it, but because of my family, my friend, my entire goddamned House.

And that was why I blamed my current situation on the world, on everyone but me, and especially on that... that... I couldn't even think of a word foul enough to describe you. You, you were the demon of my existence, the monster in my life. You, whose bedroom I was now locked up in, and had been for the last month.

The final battle had been just a cacophony of pained screams and yelled curses, you could hardly tell who was a Death Eater and who was a member of the Order. My father had tried so hard to keep me from that battle. He knew it was a lost cause, he said that he wanted at least one person he loved to get out of this war alive, they were far too many. But that was exactly why I had to be there – every man or woman was needed to try to fight the devils. But we lost, as most of us had already known.

They had rounded us up like cattle. Everyone of them had two wands each – their own and one of ours. Then that horrible lord of theirs came to stand in front of us all. His bright, evil eyes swooped over us before he looked at his army.

"This is a great day for all of us." He paused when loud cheers broke out. "Every singe one of you fought to bring us to this point, but some fought with extraordinary strength and determination, and they are the ones who will get to choose a slave first. Remember my friends, this is a new era, and it is our era!" The cheers that followed this was deafening, and kept on for several minutes.

As the sound quieted down, the lord started talking again. "The first person who gets rewarded is someone who have killed more scums," he kicked a girl who had been in my year at Hogwarts hard in her stomach to give weight to his words, "than all of you put together, someone who this war would have been pointless without. My friends, bow your heads and show your respect for the Dragon!"

And you stepped up to his side. No cheers followed his words this time. The entire battle field was covered with an honoring silence, and every single one of the black robed devils got on their knees in respect. The man that they called a lord raised his voice and started to count all of the people you had killed.

I was horrified. It went on forever, and I knew most of them, had called some my friends. I had known you in school, and never in all of my live would I have thought that you were capable of something like this. You had been a coward then, and tried to pass it of as bravery, although nobody was fooled.

The lord looked at you. "Now, my friend, who will be your choice?"

I was completely paralyzed when your eyes immediately went to me. You grinned and pointed at me. "That one. Quite pretty for a maggot, or what do you say?"

They all roared with laughter as you came to stand in front of me, and lowered yourself to your knees, never breaking eye contact with me.

Their lord had already started to shower the next man with praises, but you ignored it completely.

Your hand came up cup my cheek in an intimate and almost loving way. Your dark eyes bored into mine. "Well, darling," you said in a menacing voice, "looks like you're coming home with me."

But you didn't move. You just sat there, looking at my face, and I was too scared to move a muscle. "You should know that I always wished this day would come at some point. I dreamed of having you in my bed." Your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but I still heard it and understood. No matter how embarrassing it might be I still have to confess that I almost fainted with fright. You must have seen how scared I was because you laughed, a cold and throaty laugh, and pulled me to my feet. "Don't worry, honey, I'm not going to hurt you." You paused, before continuing just as merrily as before, "well, at least not if I don't have to, and we don't want that now, do we, sweets?"

"N-no," I stuttered.

You gave me a brilliant smile in response and pulled me close as you Apparated us to your home.

You raped me that night, and had done every night since. I would have loved to be able to say that you forced yourself at me, that it hurt so bad that I screamed and cried and spend the night in a ball because it was too painful to move. But then I'd be lying. The thing that I hated the absolutely most about it was that my body responded to yours, that it wasn't horrible (quite on the contrary, actually). I enjoyed the sex just as much as you did, if not more at times.

But it was still rape, if not of the body, then of the mind. Yes, that's the way to put it. You raped my mind, because even if my body wanted it, my brain most certainly did not.

And that was my life now. I would wake up next to you (you always slept late), and when you finally woke up you would kiss me, get dressed and lock the door after you. I would spent the day in complete boredom, only broken by the house elf who gave me my food. You would come home in the evening and we ate supper together. Sometimes you took me out for a walk, but that was a rarity. Then we would go to bed, and you would rape my mind and have sex with my body.

You almost never hit me – I didn't feel the need to be rebellious. What good would it bring? The only times you hit me was when I didn't call you by your first name. It was so easy to slip, I had only ever called you by your surname before. I was learning now, but when I was caught of guard, it was so easy to go back from the 'Ginny' to the much more familiar 'Weasley'.

You didn't want me to call you Dragon either, like all of the others did. It was easy to see who you had gotten the nickname. You were a dragon with every fiber of your being – the fire red hair, the fierce personality and the feral possessiveness. That, and you had a weakness for sparkly things. And I guess that was one of the reasons why you got so obsessed with me – my hair sometimes sparkled just like diamonds.

--

It was a month ago now, I think, that I was reading yet another fanfic where Draco becomes obsessed with Ginny and he kidnaps her and keep her as a sex slave or something like that, and it got me thinking. Why is it always Draco who is the one to kidnap Ginny, why is she always the mentally and physically weaker one?

And that's why I decided to write this. So now I'm wondering, what do you think about it? I really want to know, and not just like when writers want reviews because it makes them happy to get response on what they do. I want to know what you think of this outlook.


End file.
